


Flower boy

by Garnetsgrin



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, DELIVERY BOY, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes, audiofic, flower shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:25:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garnetsgrin/pseuds/Garnetsgrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A symphony pulled and washed through his head, it smelled like grass and chess pieces and pulled at his mind with a childs hand.</p><p>Podfic available</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flower boy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote half of this a long time ago and then forgot, I'm not a good writer anymore but I finished it anyway. Enjoy.
> 
> Podfic here: http://tindeck.com/listen/ibjt

An early morning sun stretched it’s first rays across a small neighborhood, greeting children at the windows of small houses as they first crawl out of bed, warming old men playing chess in gardens and bathing everything in soft color. It washed the town in a surreal glow, a scene cut from a quaint fairy tale, and I guess that’s what this was.

There were few people on the street at this time of day, and the silence was a nice change of pace from the inner city only a few miles away. Dave absently wondered why they didn’t get more orders from places like this. He’d been running deliveries for his brother since he turned fourteen, most orders taking him only a few blocks to an office on an anniversary, or to an apartment for birthdays, with the occasional caterer asking to meet him at some high brow restaurant on the other side of the city. Usually the distance was short enough for him to forgo any transportation, usually opting for a jog or leisurely stride. Today though he had pulled out his old bike, and rode right out of the city, past apartments and coffee shops, watching building grow smaller and more sparse as a thin line of sweat grew on his cheeks and he slowly took in the foreign scenery of suburbia..

His brother was expecting him back by noon and that gave him a few hours to enjoy the new environment, when he found the street name that matched the chicken scrawled address on his hand he laid his bike against a tree, shifted the basket of flowers on his back and strolled slowly past each factory cut white house, absently following the movement and sounds of joggers and faceless children, forming a beat to every sound and a rhythm to each step. The house he needed was easy enough to find, and by the time he reached the door step a symphony pulled and washed through his head, it smelled like grass and chess pieces and pulled at his mind with a childs hand. 

With an effort Dave pulled himself away from the cresting rhythm, the door bell stabbed and pushed away the music as he pressed it. The sun rose higher in the sky and white rays beat on his back as he waited, sweat pooling uncomfortably on his back. When the door opened he was assaulted by the sight of rows of blinding white bucked teeth splitting a pale face almost in half.

The boy was gorgeous, pale and plump, with thin blue eyes hidden behind thick glasses, his grin never faltered as Dave stared for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn’t have been much older then seventeen and Dave’s stomach flipped and twisted off a handle and into a pit of butterflies.

He swallowed and shook himself out his stupor, blue eyes looked amused. 

”I-I’m here to deliver a bouquet for a James Egbert, is that you?” He didn’t stutter, not one bit.

Blue eyes informed him that James is his father and Dave waited patiently as he went to grab payment. They exchanged goods easily enough and gave pleasant goodbyes, the money from blue eyes gripped forgotten in his sweaty hand. When the door closed Dave stood for a moment dumbstruck.

"Wow." A sigh

He walked away back into the street and the sound of children reached his ears once again. He looked at his hand, the money still clenched in his fist and with his other he fished out his wallet, as he slipped the money in he noticed a piece of paper between bills, a phone number.

Huh.

Back on his bike the symphony returned but this time it flowed with blue.


End file.
